


The One Where Brendon is Mature (I promise)

by WickerPrince



Series: Ryden Angst Fest [4]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, fight me, just crack, vaguely cracky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-10 15:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10441047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickerPrince/pseuds/WickerPrince
Summary: A few things:1) Ryan Ross is older than Brendon Urie by one year and taller than him by 2 inches.2) I'm aware that, like, no one ships Spencer/Dallon but I think it would be adorable.3) This was poorly executed but it was for a friend and I hope they like it (you know who you are)4) I am also aware that this isn't based on a song, but, again, this is for a friend. I also felt as though you needed a break from all the angsty song fics.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Concept (from BCM): 
> 
> "I feel like we need to drag the group out and just have someone in the clique deep throat something and make eye contact with someone across the room, and/or wink suggestively. Bonus points if the victim is with someone and coupley close and the other person sees"
> 
> I hope it's satisfactory, even though it's terribly written.

He knew this was a bad idea. He knew it would end up one way or another. And here he was, sitting across the mall food court from Brendon fucking Urie, who has decided to be rather...messy, with his ice cream while he waited for his food. The idiot just  _ had  _ to get vanilla.

 

He didn’t think much of the vague motions Brendon was making until the younger boy began to smear the ice cream over his lips. Ryan choked on his burger, covering his mouth as his face flushed red. He picked up the wrapper from the burger and spit the bite out, eyes watering.

 

“Dude, you alright there?” asked Spencer, laughing a little. 

 

Ryan shook his head, pointing to Brendon. He was now standing completely normal, eating his ice cream like any regular person would.

 

“He’s just standing there.” 

 

Dallon shook his head in disbelief. “How long does it take to get your food anyway?” 

 

Ryan nodded slightly in agreement, his eyes still fixed on Brendon. As soon as the two other boys turned back to their food, he was back at it, only this time he had his meal. Burritos. This was going to be far from good.

 

“Ryan, I know you’re in love with me, but Jesus Christ, stop staring.” Brendon chuckled and sent a wink to Ryan as he sat down, placing his food in front of him.

 

Ryan looked down, stuffing the last of his burger into his mouth with a muffled “shut up”.

 

“Right,” Dallon said as he stood, “Spencer and I are going to the bathroom. We’ll be back in a sec.”

 

Spencer jumped up and followed Dallon toward the restroom. Brendon cackled and shouted after them, “Don’t have too much fun!”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes, chewing and swallowing the chunk of burger he had stuffed into his mouth. “You’re so immature.” 

 

“Immature? Me? Never.” Brendon denied, picking up one of the burritos he had ordered. He slowly sucked it into his mouth, stopping when his lips wrapped around the middle. 

 

Ryan sat there, bug-eyed, and gaping at Brendon’s rather special ability. “B-Brendon!” he yelped once Brendon had finished that bite and went back for another.

 

Brendon laughed, shoving the rest of his burrito into his mouth and grinning.

 

“You’re disgusting.” Ryan rolled his eyes but laughed.

 

“You love me.” Brendon replied, a bit of burrito filling dropping from his lip. 

  
Ryan laughed and rolled his eyes again. But it was true, he really did love Brendon.


	2. Do You Have Time to Talk About Jesus Christ?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to make this one a series of oneshots. fuck off if you don't like it

Missionaries. Ryan had some how managed to get them into a mess so bad they had to become  _ missionaries  _ to fix it. Accept Jesus Christ into their hearts. Which they did. The end.

 

Yeah, right, and every song Brendon writes  _ isn’t  _ about Ryan Ross. Please. This is only the beginning. 

 

\-----

 

On all of the days Ryan could have chosen, he chose this one. Why? Because it was raining, and everyone knows you look desperate when you’re soaked and freezing. 

 

“Ryan, I hate you.” Brendon grumbled as he followed Ryan up to the third house of the day. Seven more and they were done.

 

“Oh shut up, it’s your fault we’re doing this.” Ryan replied, ringing the doorbell. 

 

Brendon rolled his eyes. “It is not. I wasn’t the one who threw an egg at the pastor’s daughter.” he said, the gears in his mind beginning to turn. Oh, what a great plan this would turn out to be. 

 

When the door opened and an elderly woman stepped out, Brendon almost felt bad for what he was about to do. Emphasis on  _ almost.  _

 

“Oh, what sweet young boys. Harold, would you like to come and talk to these young men?” the old woman said, turning her head slightly to call into the house to her husband - assumingly her husband.

 

A faint “no, Margaret” came from where Brendon assumed the living room was. The old woman, Margaret, as she was now known, turned back to Ryan and Brendon. “What can I do for you boys?” 

 

Brendon grinned, opening his mouth to speak. “Do you have time to talk about my moth’afuckin’ homeboy JC?” he asked in his best ghetto impression.

 

Margaret nearly fainted. “Oh my! Such language!” she gasped, clutching the pearl necklace around her neck. 

 

Ryan’s eyes widened and, though it was clear he was trying hard not to laugh, turned and smacked Brendon. Twice. Then he turned back to the woman, apologising profusely. 

 

“I am so, so, so sorry about my friend. He’s probably grumpy because of all this rain. We’ll take him to see Pastor Smith right away. Again, I’m so sorry, ma’am.” He said, becoming more flustered with every word that spilled out of his mouth.

 

Margaret shook her head in disappointment and stepped back into the safety of her home, slamming the door shut. Once she had, Ryan turned to Brendon, glaring daggers at him. 

 

“Brendon Boyd Urie, I’m going to kill you.” he growled. 

 

Brendon cackled, tears pricking at his eyes. “You have to admit, that was pretty fucking funny.”

 

Ryan stepped forward, seemingly towering over Brendon. “On the count of three, run.” he said and began counting. Brendon swallowed and slipped out from where Ryan had cornered him, sprinting down the sidewalk. 

 

“Three!” Ryan shouted and sprinted after Brendon, catching up to him with practised ease. “Brendon, you idiot, get back here!” 

 

Brendon screamed when he felt the tips of Ryan’s fingers brush his back. He sped up, ignoring his already burning lungs and throat. “Ryan!” he screamed, voice high pitch. “Ryan, please don’t kill me! I’m too pretty to die!” 

 

Ryan lunged, tacking Brendon into the grass and pinning him down, chest heaving. “You’re such an idiot.” 

 

“A cute idiot?” Brendon asked through laboured breaths. 

 

“A very cute idiot.” Ryan agreed with a nod. “I’m still gonna kill you though.” 

 

Brendon grinned and squirmed out from under Ryan, jumping to his feet. “You’ll have to catch me first.” he said, winked and took off again. 

  
Ryan laughed, taking off after Brendon. So what if Brendon was an idiot? Ryan could overlook that.


	3. Brendon Used Kiss: Enemy Ryan was Dazed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> don't judge my lack of knowledge of pokemon. i'm not a geek like you guys *hides every legand of zelda game i have*

A sunny day was perfect for this kind of activity, Brendon figured. He held his phone in front of him, chewing the inside of his cheek. He could’ve sworn he saw an Eevee a few feet away. Spinning around, he thought of how stupid he must look. Which, in turn, made him think about how Ryan would’ve spun with him, just so he wasn’t being stupid alone. 

 

Pushing the thoughts away, he stopped, grinning when he noticed the Eevee was directly in front of him, not seven feet away. He began to walk toward it, glancing up from his phone to see that someone was walking toward the same spot. 

 

The guy looked oddly familiar, but Brendon brushed it off. He was determined to get to that Eevee before the guy. His walk turned into a jog, which then turned into a run. The guy coming from the opposite direction followed Brendon’s gait, clearly trying to get there before him. 

 

Upon coming to the spot, they both crashed into each other, sending one another toppling onto their asses. 

 

“Watch it!” the guy barked, rubbing his head and looking up to see who could have possibly been so rude to run into him. His breath caught in his throat, however, when he finally noticed who it was. “Brendon?”

 

Brendon looked up, expecting it to be some fan he’d run into. He really hoped it wasn’t, because then he would have to actually talk to them. And probably sign their t-shirt or some other bullshit he was really  _ not  _ in the mood to do. “Holy shit…” he mumbled when his eyes landed on the guy’s face.

 

Ryan grinned, his expression immediately lighting up. “Brendon, shit man, it’s been a while.” he said, quickly standing and holding his hand out to help Brendon off his ass. 

 

Brendon smiled, taking Ryan’s hand and pulling himself up. “I know. I missed you, dude.” he said and gave Ryan a hug. Man, that felt good.

  
Ryan’s arms found their way around Brendon’s waist, his cheek resting against the shorter man’s shoulder. It was only when Brendon was tilting his head up that Ryan opened his eyes. Brendon’s smile was the last thing he noticed before his lips were pressed to the shorter man’s, eyes fluttering closed once again. 


	4. SMMMMMOKIN'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a Tumblr post.

Ryan and his mother (who had finally returned his numerous texts about having dinner before he graduated) sat in Ryan’s favourite restaurant, the awkward silence between them hanging thick in the air. 

 

Ryan’s mother cleared her throat quietly, signalling to Ryan that she expected him to start conversation. What was the point? She was focused on her phone anyway. 

 

Eventually, the silence was broken by the waiter, a young looking boy - obviously younger than Ryan - holding a notepad and a pen. “Hey, I’m Brendon, I’ll be your waiter tonight. Are you ready to order?” 

 

Ryan couldn’t help but stare. This boy was absolutely beautiful. He managed to order his food shortly after his mum had, watching the boy walk away, his hips swaying slightly as he did so.

 

*******

 

When Brendon returned with Ryan and Danielle’s food, he grinned at Ryan. “Careful, the plate is hot.” he advised as he set the plate in front of Ryan. 

 

Without thinking, Ryan replied, “that too, huh?”   
  


Brendon grinned wider at the flirtation. Two could play at that game. He winked and, as he walked away, touched Ryan’s shoulder and made a sizzling noise. 

 

Ryan sputtered on his drink, coughing and looking up as Brendon walked away. Hot waiter, flirting with him, what does he do?!

  
Do him, is all he can think.


	5. A Pile Of Polaroids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAND WE'RE BACK WITH THIS. 
> 
> i found this idea on Tumblr, so here we are. 
> 
> Enjoy, lovelies.

If Zack would've told Brendon that this was going to happen, he wouldn't have done this. If Dallon would have told him that it was a bad idea, he wouldn't have done it. But no, no one told him not to. 

 

So here he sat, a Polaroid of Ryan fucking Ross tucked away in his pocket. The interviewer kept babbling, causing Brendon to zone out before he asked a question that caught his attention. 

 

"So, Brendon, do you still keep in contact with Ryan?" the interviewer asked. 

 

Brendon let out a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning forward slightly, rubbing his hands together the way he does. "Um, no, no, he's just a part of my past now." he said, the photo of Ryan slipping from his pocket and fluttering to the floor. Brendon's face flushed. "How'd that get there?" he said to himself as he bent forward to pick up the picture.

 

Before he could return to his upright position, though, about twenty Polaroids fell out of the inner pockets of his jacket. Ryan's face stared up at him, right into his soul, twenty times over. 

 

The interviewer cleared his throat, and Brendon looked up at him. His face had gone even redder. The interviewer raised an inquisitive brow. 

 

"I can explain?" 


End file.
